The Warmth in These Cold Bones
by orchideously
Summary: Harry is given a choice to remove himself from the war and all it entails. Then the Triwizard Tournament comes and he must decides if intrigue, attraction and politics are worth his life. -Very AU. Durmstrang!Harry- THIS WILL BE A SLASH STORY /
1. Durmstrang Doubts

Harry took a deep shuddering breath and almost relaxed for a moment as the sub-zero air filled his lungs. Green eyes stared out at the frozen landscape around him. He stood on the bridge of Durmstrang Institute, deep in the mountains of Scandinavia. The dark castle behind him loomed menacingly, seemingly carved brutally out of the very mountain it was situated on. The towers points looked like rough spears piercing the sky. There were no windows aside from on the towers, they preferred not to freeze to death while learning or sleeping.

The bridge which connected the castle to the mountain peak adjacent to it was made of dark stones, rugged and surely held together only by magic and the hope of those who crossed it. Harry walked to the side of the bridge looking down at the frozen lake below him. In Helvete Sjø, the large lake below the school, was the Durmstrang Ship. The snowflakes that cascaded steadily, hissed and disappeared before they could cascade into the unnaturally warm lake.

A gust of wind ruffled his midnight hair and he pulled his fur cloak tighter to himself. His thoughts were far from the cold, about one thousand kilometers away in Britain. Headmaster Karkaroff had announced that night that Durmstrang would be participating in the Triwizard Tournament which would be held at Hogwarts, the wizarding school in Britain. The school Harry was supposed to attend.

When Harry turned eleven he received a letter he had not expected. A letter kept safely within the walls of Gringotts, only to be seen by Harry Potter the day he turned eleven.

Harry was sitting alone in his cupboard on the edge of the too-small cot, sniffling softly. He was locked in and hadn't eaten in days. He knew the Dursley's wouldn't remember his birthday, they had never once remembered it in eleven years. He had tried so hard all night not to cry, he desperately wanted to be stronger than that, but eventually the silent tears came.

"Happy Birthday Harry." He whispered to himself, tugging his scrawny legs up and burying his face in his knees. He sat like that for a while until a quiet pop made him look up in surprise. On the dirty cot in front of him was a pristine white envelope. The beautiful script read his full name. He got up and placed an ear to the door but heard no sound, the Dursley's likely were still sleeping. Climbing back down onto the cot he picked the letter up and examined it.

Strange things like this were not an unheard-of occurrence in the world of little Harry Potter. He knew he was different, not a freak like his awful relatives told him, just different. Harry always hoped he was special and that one day, he might do amazing things and his odd incidents would help him achieve that. So, when a white envelope appeared out of thin air on his eleventh birthday, he took it in stride, embracing the weird happenings in his life and broke the wax seal.

Inside was a letter written on parchment, which was also very strange. Shrugging it off and smiling at the greeting, he read eagerly.

 _My Little Harry,_

 _It is your eleventh birthday, and what an important birthday it is! I am hoping this beats the school owls (and if I know Goblins it will, remarkable beings they are, truly fascinating). I wanted to be the one to tell you first. You, my darling, are so very special. You are what is known as a wizard, just like your Father. I'm a witch, and we are capable of the most wondrous feat in the world, Magic. Now I know this is hard to believe but please keep going, more will be explained._

 _If you're reading this then your Father and I have been killed, and out of everything I could say to you first I want to say I'm sorry. I am so very sorry for leaving you alone my little bird, and so is your Father. We have all been caught in a web of deceit and it is too late to turn back._

 _But we want things to be different for you, love, we want you to have a choice. That's why this is reaching you now. But before we go any further I have some things I need to say._

 _I want you to take care of yourself, okay? The world is cruel and sometimes you must be too. Protect yourself above all else and know that no matter where the trails you choose in your life take you, we are so very proud of you. Do not give your secrets easily, they should be a hard earned and precious gift. Do not listen to the biased opinions that will surround you, blind worship breeds soldiers not citizens. Gain knowledge and form opinions of your own for the world will never be painted in black and white._

 _I am sure against all our wishes you were placed with my sister Petunia and her atrocious family and knowing those awful Muggles you are not treated well. Just know, Harry, you are so very loved and we are with you always._

 _This letter is your chance Harry, a chance to be more than a pawn in an old fool's game. When you are finished reading this letter, get your things together, and for goodness sake's wear a coat. Whisper 'Severus' to this paper and a man by this name will take you far from your awful aunt and any War and somewhere you won't be found. Start a new life, with a new name. Severus was my best friend; he is someone you can trust Harry._

 _Once again, we love you little bird. We can only hope this is the right decision._

 _Everything we have to give,_

 _Mum and Dad xoxo_

The man named Severus had been very unpleasant. He wondered at the time how the bat-like man could have been best friends with his mother when she seemed so very sweet. Regardless of his attitude, Severus had gathered Harry's things and they left together using something Severus called 'Apparition'. They had appeared in front of a small cottage in what looked to be the Arctic Tundra. The man who came to the door looked to be in his sixties, with graying hair and a long beard, he raised a thick eyebrow at Severus and jerked his head towards Harry before the two started speaking in Russian. Eventually the man crouched down and gave Harry an assessing once over before sticking his hand out. Warily he shook the mans hand, gripping as hard as he could to try to show he wasn't as weak as he looked. In a thick accent the man spoke.

"Goodbye Harry Potter, hello Arild Stepanov. I am Moriz."

Harry shook away the memories, it wouldn't do to start dwelling on the past. He needed his wits about him. He was going to be returning to Britain and he knew it. He was a Durmstrang treasure, in the eyes of alumni and staff the only person as adored as Harry was Viktor Krum. This had not been his intention, in fact all he wanted was for no one to look at him. But, in a school with roughly 100 -150 students going unnoticed was not an easy feat. He excelled in all subjects, and he took all the Institute offered. He was especially good at Dark Arts, Defence and Charms. After he beat the Italian Minister for Magic's son (who was three years above him) in a duel in his second year he caught the eye of several important people. Powerful political players, who mostly disgusted him to his core, but they were useful if nothing else.

The last five years, though, he had successfully avoided being featured in any newspaper or been seen outside of school except for very specifically chosen and less than reputable events with guarantees that no one from England would show up. He often thought he was perhaps a bit paranoid, but someone like him could not afford to slip even once. Not since he was eleven, and Moriz told him exactly what his involvement in the wizarding world was.

Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, was the difference between the Dark Lord of Britain's downfall or his victory. For two years now the Dark Lord had been gaining followers and building his army. The speculation ran rampant as usual, but everyone could seem to agree that he was in control of the Ministry now. The outward appearance seemed unchanged, no battles in the Ministry, just quiet infiltration. His influence seeping through the government like insidious fog. One thing had not changed though, if he knew Harry was alive, he would come for him. Especially if the man had figured out what Harry was, what happened when the Killing Curse rebounded all those years ago. Why Harry could speak Parseltongue and had an affinity for Necromancy.

The panic in him started to rise again, his skin felt clammy despite the fact there were snowflakes in his eyelashes. He started to pant lightly and cursed himself. Clamping his eyes shut he forced the anxiety down.

Moriz would cuff him on the head if he saw him now. 'Again with your ridiculous moping, would you like me to pity you? No? Then fix yourself, you're the only one who can!' or 'Wearing your emotions on your face like some sort of _Gryaznokrovka_!' to which Harry would say 'Well technically I am half' and hope he was quicker than the old man this time. The thought brought a flicker of a smile across his face.

He placed his hands on the stone wall of the bridge and closed his eyes, willing himself to think of anything else. After a few moments he felt a presence by his side.

"Vasile." He said softly without opening his eyes. He heard his friend chuckle.

"How you always know it's me I will never know _,_ _păsărică_." Harry finally opened his eyes to shoot a cold look at his friend over the nickname. His heart warmed a bit when he caught sight of him though. Vasile Antonescu was Harry's first friend at Durmstrang and, truly, his first friend ever. The Romanian boy was incredibly smart despite his usually silly nature. He came from a prominent Eastern European pureblood family, the same as most students at Durmstrang besides Harry. His olive skin and waist long chestnut hair with his strong jaw line made him look reminiscent of a medieval prince. His mannerisms with friends did not show his breeding, but put him in the middle of a charity ball and he could make even Ministers swoon. "Because you walk like an oaf. And do not call me that." He pushed back from the wall and turned to lean his hip against it. Vasile was only grinning at him, his ridiculous grin that made Harry wonder sometimes how he got tricked into this friendship. And then he noticed he was smiling back at the Romanian boy and remembered why he was his best friend, because he was the only one who could make him do that. When he noticed the concern in Vasile's eyes, however, his smile faded, remembering why he had sought solitude in the first place. Harry's face went back to it's usual vacant expression and the taller boy sighed. "Arild." He said tilting his head and forcing the green eyed boy to make eye contact. "It is okay to be scared. If anyone has a right to be scared over this tournament it is you." Harry wrenched his gaze away from sympathetic black eyes and managed to look unaffected. "I am not scared, simply... confused. I am not quite sure what I am going to encounter when I arrive there," Harry said, wandlessly casting a few detection charms to ensure their conversation was as private as they believed. "It is not a safe place for me." He began to stroll slowly towards the entrance to the castle and the other boy walked beside him. Vasile was one of four people who knew who he really was. "Perhaps you don't go? We can fair without you and-" The brunette stopped when he saw the look Harry was giving him and sighed morosely. "I know. Karkaroff would kick you out. Moriz would kill Karkaroff. No good for anyone." Harry actually managed a small laugh as that image passed through his head and noticed Vasile had a spring in his step after. The boy was ridiculously easy to please. "I knew I would have to deal with all I left behind one day. I just hoped it wouldn't be so soon." And it was true, he always knew somewhere inside of him that he would have to face his demons eventually. He had hoped to be out of school, maybe to have more experience. Sure abilities and power were above average but he was not vain enough to think he could best someone three times his age and known as one of the best wizards that had ever lived. "Will you seek him out?" Vasile asked tentatively. Harry raised an eyebrow at him. "Right. Of course, you won't. Trouble will just manage to find you as usual." The pair reached the giant steel doors and entered the school, pulling off their thick coats and basking for a moment in the warmth of the castle. Harry loved entering the ancient building, tasting the rich Dark Magic seeped into the stone. It wrapped each student in its embrace and told them they had arrived in a place where judgement for their darker nature would not be cast here, for they were home. Harry and Vasile chatted idly as they walked to the dorms. When they reached the doors to the common room they heard the unmistakable sounds of a party. They opened the door and it was dark except for the lights that flashed from the tips of people's wands as bodies pressed together, it smelled of smoke and sweat and alcohol. "They must be celebrating our participation in the tournament," Harry murmured taking it all in happily. He loved a good Durmstrang party, if only because he loved good sex. A blond boy Harry had Defence with walked past him and gave him a wink and a come-hither gesture before disappearing into the throng of people dancing. He looked over at his friend who was smirking at him. "Perhaps a blond may help you forget your troubles tonight?" Vasile asked. Harry couldn't help but agree and disappeared into the crowd as well. ********

 _Severus,_

 _I know you are no fool and I know you are hardly a Death Eater, which is why I am writing to you. The Triwizard Tournament, hm? I am not an idiot, I can see bait when it is laid out in front of me so blatantly. The Dark Lord knows my age and he knows if I am at Beauxbatons or Durmstrang I will be showing my face at Hogwarts. I will not tell you not to worry, as I am almost possible you are incapable, much like myself. I will only tell you to be careful, you are the only one in Britain who will recognize me, I will be using a Glamour on my eyes._

 _Control your emotions upon sight of me, dear Severus, and I will be seeing you soon._

 _-Arild Stepanov_

Severus Snape read the letter for the sixth time, swirling his Scotch absentmindedly. So the boy would be coming to Hogwarts. He knew when he was told of the Tournament it was going to happen, it did not make him any less afraid.

He was not afraid of the young Harry Potter, rather, he was afraid the young one would not be able to protect his mind. He seemed sharp enough in his letter, though, and Severus had great faith in Moriz.

The Dark Lord would be given a run for his money even if he found out the true identity of the Durmstrang student. Hopefully, he would never find out _exactly_ who Arild was, or it would be both their lives.


	2. Ships and Fantasies and Vampires

October 29th

It had been a long month waiting for their departure from Durmstrang. The group Karkaroff decided to bring was small, consisting of nine students total. Four sixth years and five seventh years were on the great ship to Hogwarts, a powerful Charm only comparable to the Bubble Head Charm keeping them all from drowning and encompassing the entirety of the boat. Harry wasn't complaining about how few students were going to the Tournament, it meant they each received their own spacious cabin. His room was done in various shades of blue, the four poster canopy bed was expansive and it had a grey wardrobe as well as a small sitting area with a fireplace.

Harry was lying in the bed attempting to read and failing, too many thoughts floating around in his head. Vasile had helped ground him the last month. His friend happily kept him entertained with drinks and Quidditch and light banter. They weren't able to have many conversations regarding the trouble waiting for them at Hogwarts. The excitement and festivities surrounding their trip overseas kept everyone busy, not allowing anyone time to sneak away.

He hadn't received any response from Severus, he hadn't expected any different. The letter he sent was meant to be a warning rather than a start of correspondence. He had seen him occasionally when he was younger, the Potions Master would visit Moriz late at night and they would speak under silencing charms and drain a bottle of vodka in the sitting room of their home in the Far North of Russia. As Harry got older he realized the two men were discussing the goings on in Britain, mainly the progress of the Dark Lord.

The rise of Voldemort and his Death Eaters was kept carefully away from newspapers residing instead in fearful whispers and gossip. The recruitment of Durmstrang students was kept equally quiet, no one was contacted until after they left the school. The only slue that former students were being recruited at all was the disappearance of the children of several prominent pureblood families. The families would smile graciously when asked about the sudden disappearance and give some story about studying abroad in Asia or America for their Mastery.

Vasile's father, Adrian, was the leading Liaison for Gringotts Bank in most of Europe. This position kept Adrian very tightly wound into the finances of the most powerful people in the Wizarding World. Being in charge of such large amounts of their money also had the benefit of being in the trust of these families. (Vasile once disclosed, after some generous wine-pouring by a flirty waiter in Sicily, that one of his father's client's last name was Romanov and the man's grandmother was Anastasia Nikolaevna Romanov, the Grand Duchess. Supposedly she was a witch and had Apparated out of Ipatiev House and went into hiding in the Wizarding World when the Bolsheviks assassinated the rest of her family.) So due to all of these benefits Adrian often knew before the rest of the world what was going on, especially when shifts of political position were involved.

Per the letters Harry received from the elder Antonescu, the Dark Lord had to have been the one behind the return of the Triwizard Tournament. The list of supporters was too smeared with the suspected Death Eaters in the Wizengamot. The list included names such as Malfoy, Black, Dolohov, Zabini, Flint, Gaunt, and so on. Harry knew the reason behind this push was the first ploy the Dark Lord was going to use to lure Harry back within his reach. It was a test to see if Harry was even still in Europe or if he was being trained in a magical school at all. He respected the move for what it was, gathering information on your enemy while keeping up a façade of unification to the general public. Harry wondered what would happen if Voldemort managed to not discover who Arild Stepanov really is. Perhaps he would turn his search abroad, start combing through every magical school in the world over the next years for any records that didn't look up to par.

Would the Dark Lord ever stop his pursuit? Harry banished the thought. He did not enjoy asking pointless questions. He sighed and covered his face with his arm, shying away from the green sunlight pouring in from the circular windows lining the wall.

A crack indicating Apparition made him raise his head, Vasile was standing at the foot of his bed smirking. Harry raised an eyebrow at the tall boy.

"I am here as the only warning you're going to get." He said and Harry quickly reached for the wand on his nightstand. His finger had barely touched it when with another crack, he had a lap full of a very irate Inkar Ospanov. Her dark hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail making her severe cheekbones and eyebrows look even more intense. and her perfect lips were pulled back in a snarl.

"You absolute fucking _Koyanshyk_!" She pressed her wand deeper into his throat.

"Hello, Inkar. That's a lovely lipstick shade." He tried lightly, knowing it was a weak attempt. She hit him with a close range stinging hex that made his eyes tear up automatically.

"I just spent the last three hours in this shithole listening to Bruna whine on and on about you only for _Rickard_ to come in and politely inform her how much she's missing because you were – and I quote- 'one hell of a fuck'!" She gritted the last part out through her teeth and Harry rolled his eyes.

"You're only upset because you had to hear her whinge, she does it all the time I figured you would be used to it." His almost had his wand, why couldn't Vasile be a good friend and levitate it a bit? Oh yes, because he's bloody terrified of Inkar. As is to emphasise his thoughts she hauled him up by the front of his shirt and slammed him back down onto the bed.

"Yes I am used to listening to her incessant complaining about why you won't just stick your godforsaken dick in her, what I am not used to is getting vintage silk Charlette Pelletier robes ruined by snot!" She hauled him up again until they were face to face. "1,300 Galleons. Now."

Harry finally grasped his wand fully and waved it, summoning a pouch of gold from his wardrobe. Inkar dropped him and caught the bag with a resounding snap. Looking into it she smiled at him. Inkar's smiles were pleasant enough but it was unnerving how her 'I will Crucio you to within an inch of your worthless life' and her 'Oh thank you ever so much darling' smiles were identical. She climbed off of him and shrank the bag before slipping it into a pocket in her robe. Now that she was at a reasonable distance Harry saw the horrible stain on her marron robes and winced. Bruna needed to pick up the pieces of herself and put them together quickly or her mother would find out. No one liked an unhappy Minister for Magic, especially Minister Laut. The woman was intense and terrifying, Harry quite enjoyed her company actually.

"There should be some extra, spend it wisely you insufferable wench." He told his friend fondly, raising up on his elbows. "Skip the Beef Wellington when we're in England as well. You're getting a bit heavy, dear."

Inkar huffed and turned on her heel, muttering colorfully in her strange mix of Russian and Kazakh, before slamming the door. Vasile gasped loudly indicating he had hardly breathed the whole time she was in the room. Harry glared at him and sent a small cutting hex, skillfully knicking him right between his thumb and forefinger. Vasile yelped and put it to his mouth.

"Wud wsh a fr," Vasile mumbled incoherently.

"Sorry I don't speak coward," Harry shot at him and got up to grab a drink off of the small table next to the chaise. He poured himself a glass of French Red out of the crystal decanter and when Vasile made another muffled noise poured him one as well. "Take your hand out of your mouth and try again." He told the supposed pureblood and settled in on the small sofa. After sitting down it must have occurred to his friend he was a wizard and he healed his hand quickly before pouting his full bottom lip at Harry.

"I said what was that for?" He repeated, successfully this time.

"For turning into a little mouse every time Inkar enters a room, couldn't lift a finger to help your so-called best friend." Harry sniffed dramatically.

"Ah, you see it helps with my fantasies that I'm so scared of her though." Vasile explained.

"This is all some sort of psychosexual thing?" Harry asked amused. That was far more interesting than he thought.

"Oh yes, for the last three years I've been having elaborate sexual dreams about her. My mind really gets inventive it's remarkable, but instead of getting more perverted they tend to get more gory and frightening." He brushed his long hair from his face and smiled wistfully. "Why just last night I had a dream she had her legs wrapped around me and was riding me, only every time she landed back on my lap I was impaled further onto this absolutely gigantic spike. You know, Vlad the Impaler style."

Harry blinked at his best friend and cocked his head a bit, trying to process this enlightening information. "You are quite fucked in the head, you know that right?" He asked mildly and received a shit-eating grin in return.

"Oh yes, quite. But when you've had sex with as many vampires as I have I guess the wank-bank needs to get astonishingly creative."

Harry recalled last Christmas break. He and Vasile had spent it together at Moriz's cabin, regularly getting the tar beat out of them in dueling practice and slamming vodka. They Apparated into the closest town, over one hundred kilometers away, and found all the windows and doors tightly locked and shops shut up except for one dingy bar. Vasile had insisted they enter as he was starving for social interaction. They found only a few people lingering, all of whom were extremely pale and intent on sniffing them. After discerning no one was actually alive and all were in fact undead Harry had wanted to leave. Vasile had different ideas.

"Speaking of Vampires," Harry began and warded the room with a wave of his hand.

"Father says they're still migrating. Many of his night-walking clientele have also taken rather large sums out of their almost unending fortunes, only explaining the withdrawals as 'donations to a cause they hold dear'." He looked pointedly at Harry who drained his glass before pouring another.

"So the werewolves went last year, the Vampires are disappearing at a rapid rate, and 56 Durmstrang graduates have gone missing." Harry swirled his wine while he thought. "He's going to take Hogwarts this year. The Triwizard Tournament is just a distraction." He concluded.

"He has to take down Albus Dumbledore for that." Vasile pointed out. It sounded weak even to his ears. The Dark Lord was of course going to take out the Leader for the Light, it was only a matter of time. They both knew the old man was done, and with no one else to take up his vacancy there would be no opposition left.

"Yes he does. It will be done accidentally while we are there. Foreign witnesses and press galore. There will be no one able to object, he would have died of old age or senility." Harry spoke quietly, already preparing for what Vasile was going to ask.

"What if he pulls your name out of the Goblet?"

Harry pondered this momentarily. "You remember when I was so violently ill my second year, yes?" He asked.

"Of course, thought I was going to have to take you out back like an old dog and Avada you to put you out of your misery." Vasile murmured with a wavering smirk.

"Moriz did a full Transplantation spell on me. I am his child. Or I am a Malfoy, Lucius was there a lot that summer. Either way, if the goblet pops out a Harry Potter I won't be magically bound." His friend seemed to deflate with relief.

"Thank god. Does the young Draco know of you?" Vasile asked.

"Do you think Moriz a fool? He knew Abraxas, he knows Lucius, he knows his son is a bragging idiot. Of course, not." Harry snorted. The young Draco was attractive; he would determine soon if he was trustworthy.

It was shaping up to be an interesting time in England.


End file.
